


If You Squint

by slightly_murderous_sorcerer (emerald_witch_esmeralda)



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Sexual Situations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Kinda, M/M, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_witch_esmeralda/pseuds/slightly_murderous_sorcerer
Summary: The love of Merlin’s life has been dead and buried for years, yet the pain of the loss is still as fresh as if it occurred yesterday.Two of the people Arthur loved the most happened to love each other a little bit more, leaving him in pieces. In other words, it’s all shit. But maybe there’s a way to pretend that it’s not as shit as it really is, if you squint.
Relationships: Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Guinevere/Lancelot du Lac, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Uther Pendragon
Kudos: 18





	If You Squint

Arthur was _handsome_. Terribly handsome...so handsome that it made women swoon and men jealous, hell, sometimes it was the menfolk that were the ones swooning. Handsome, charming, kind. Valiant in battle and courteous in court. In other words, he was a walking, talking, breathing _fucking_ cliché. So much like and unlike his predecessor that even now after a decade of rule, people still found it jarring. But none found it so jarring as the wizard and chief advisor, who’d served in his capacity to the previous king and had helped raise this one...Merlin would be the first to tell you that yes, Arthur was indeed handsome and indeed a Pendragon through and through. But yet, so very _not_ Pendragon. Or to be more frank, so very not _one particular_ Pendragon.  


  
The height was taller and the hair was shorter and curlier, far shorter than _he_ ever wore it. The eyes were paler, the features softer...courtesy of his mother, no doubt. If it were anyone else, it almost would’ve been enough to spoil the effect. Almost, but not with him. Arthur could almost be him, if you squint. He had the same bronze skin, the same hue of hair if not the same texture. The same broad shoulders, if somewhat slenderer. And _young_. So _very_ young...the dark stubble that grew on his face in place of a beard testified very much to how young Arthur was. He was old enough to rule, to marry and to father children now. He may not have been the same age as he was when Merlin used to teach him his numbers or small enough to pick up and fly around the castle anymore, but he was still young. Gods, the boy was so much _unlike **him**_ that it was _wrong_. It was enough to give Merlin pause...but then he’d always look again, the way that dark hair would glint blue in the light, the way he smiled so wide that his eyes would crinkle at the corners. Heaven knows that the wizard could recall enough times where he almost called out the wrong name in the hallways before a double take made him see that it was truly Arthur after all. Even so, if one could see even the way Arthur saddled his bloody horse, it was so _like_ him that it twisted Merlin’s heart. What was left of it, anyway.  


  
In fact, he’d never seemed more like _him_ than the day Merlin walked into the throne room after the riot and stopped execution had nearly had this castle coming down around all their ears. The bloody place was still buzzing like a beehive long after the fire was denied its royal tribute by a particularly ballsy knight. “Sire?” Merlin whispered when he arrived in the doorway...he would confess that the candlestick nearly fell from his hand at the sight that greeted him there.  
Arthur was in the middle of the aftermath of a windstorm; the tapestries and furniture seeming to have borne the brunt of this latest of his rare but potent spells of anger. He was solemn, _wrong_ without all his good cheer. Even slouched over, much like _he_ used to be when he was upset...that Pendragon fire was unmistakable with the warmth it provided, but also with the destruction that it left in the wake of its wrath.  


  
“Arthur?” Those big, red-rimmed gray eyes flickered up in the dimly burning sconces, very nearly ruining the trance...but Merlin forced himself to focus on his voice. The voice was so like his...he could almost be him, if you squint. No...this wasn’t right. He couldn’t think about that now, Arthur needed him. _He_ was gone but the boy was still here, still _alive_. He needed Merlin now more than the dead could ever need him...but that didn’t mean that the living no longer needed the dead.  
“Merlin.” Arthur rasped, looking more like a kicked dog than a ruler of Camelot. “My boy, what’s wrong?”  
The king, looking far older than his young years laughed acidly. He seemed to have aged in a matter of hours. “Come now, Uncle. Surely you know what happened, you were there with everyone else so I don’t know why you felt the need to ask that question.” His eyes suddenly became steely, flinty. The familiarity sent a shiver up Merlin’s spine. “If you’ve come to say “I told you so…”  
“No, I’m not here for that.” The wizard walked until he was near enough to put a hand on Arthur’s arm. “Not now anyway.” He grinned, a grin he didn’t feel in order to lighten the mood..but apparently it did nothing. “Her and Lancelot, I…”  
“I’m so sorry, my dear. Is there anything I can do to help?” Merlin was all concern, patting Arthur’s hand for a loss of anything else to do.  
“No jibes today? No unsolicited advice?”  
Merlin shrugged. “I just don’t have the heart for it today, I suppose. I wish I knew what to do...when you were a child it was so easy to comfort you. But I don’t know how to make this okay.”  
“You can’t. Sometimes there’s nothing that anyone can do in certain situations, not even kings and wizards.” He slid a hand over his tutor’s, squeezing for some semblance of reassurance. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”  


  
“So am I. It’s my fault, anyway. I shouldn’t have left. I was off questing for a stupid cup and left her alone.”  
“Don’t you _dare_ say that! There’s no excuse for it, so don’t give her one!”  
“Were you ever left alone, Uncle? Left all alone while…”  
“I have, several times.” Merlin’s voice was solemn. “ _He_ often left me in charge of the kingdom while he was on campaign. I missed him so much that I didn’t know how to function with the pain of it...but one thing I can say for myself, I was _never_ unfaithful to him. I loved him.”  
Arthur’s blank-staring eyes flicked around the room, desperately searching for something else to concentrate on other than his own misery. The young man then suddenly gasped, almost inaudible when Merlin turned his head. “What is it, Sire?”  


  
“When you turned just now...you almost looked like _her_.” The young king whispered.  
“Arthur, I’m a man. I have no curves or bosom, I very much doubt…”  
“Yes, yes.” Arthur dismisses it with a wave of his hand, eyes seeming to peer _through_ Merlin rather than _at_ him. The expression on his face shifted into the one he wore when he got one of his “brighter” ideas. “But you have golden hair like her...especially with it loose like that.”  
“It’s got gray in it, plus I have a beard.” Merlin protested weakly. “Arthur…”  
“You’re slim, like her.” Arthur hadn’t seemed to hear him. “You’ve got blue eyes like her...you even stand like her. If I shut my eyes, you could almost be her, if I squint.” He reached out to finger a lock of Merlin’s hair, causing him to blush. “Arthur…!”  
“Shhh.” And before Merlin knew it, the king’s lips were on his. Arthur sighed into the kiss and Merlin felt his eyes fluttering shut, it’d been so long since he kissed _anyone._ Something seemed to click in his brain when he felt Arthur stoke his cheek, and Merlin pulled away with a gasp. “We...we can’t, Arthur!” His features slowly arranged themselves into a sad smile “My lad, I’m not _her.”_

  
“No, you aren’t.” Arthur’s smile mirrored his own, it was heartbreaking to see. Someone so young and vibrant shouldn’t be looking such a way. “And I’m not _him_.” Large, dark indigo eyes were suddenly looking at the king like a deer in lamp-lights. “Come on Merlin, you don’t think I notice you doing it? Staring at me, watching me? Trying to compare what’s similar to him and what’s different ever since he died?” He reached out to stroke his cheek again. “We’re not what the other wants...but maybe, just maybe. If we squint, we can pretend. At least for a little while. Confess, you need this as much as I do.” Those big pale eyes were impossibly big, almost pleading...was Arthur mad?! What could _possibly_ be running through the lad’s mind?! _The same thing that’s been running through mine ever since he was taken from me. What am I saying...if we do this then we are both damned. Can I do that to him?_  
“If you don’t wish this, you don’t need to do it. But…” Arthur was cut off by Merlin clasping his hand to stay right where it was. “Oh _God_.” His eyes screwed shut, tears leaking from them. “Something wrong?”  
“You even _feel_ like him. But Arthur, if this happens then there’s no turning back. You do understand that, don’t you?”  


  
“I do...who said that I wanted to turn back anyway?”  
“We may burn in hell for this...who am I kidding? May? We _will_ burn in hell for this. Not that I mind, I was always going to burn in hell anyway but I don’t wish that fate for you…”  
“Let’s worry about the afterlife when we die. Right now, let’s concentrate on the world we’re inhabiting.” This time, it was Merlin who moved first to close the gap in between them. Arthur’s grip on his waist was as tight as ever it was...not that Merlin cared much. He welcomed the slight ache...it only added to the effect. “Child…”  
“Don’t call me a child. Not now.” His hands went for the ties on Merlin’s robes, only to be slapped away. “I’d prefer to leave it on.”  
“Fine by me. We want to keep an air of mystery about the thing after all.  


  


  
It takes place in one of the bedrooms reserved for dignitary guests, Arthur’s bed and Merlin’s tower being a literal hotbed of memories that they were doing this precisely to avoid  
. “ _Gwen_...fuck, _Merlin_!” Arthur, even halfway through the act still seemed unsure of what name to call out...he knew this arrangement. He knew who was on top of him right now, riding his cock. Even though the lighting was so low that shapes and colors were all that one could make out really, he still seemed confused as to what name to say.  
“What is it?” Merlin groaned out.  
“Can I come already?!” He punctuated the request with a particularly hard thrust upwards, he’d been painfully hard for what seemed like an eternity and let Merlin...Gwen...the little shit wanted to drag it out.  
“You young people, always rushing things like you’re running out of _time!_ Merlin gasped and tugged at the king’s hair, equal parts chiding and reward for hitting _that_ spot inside of him...he wasn’t going to lie and say that he didn’t delight in the choked-off groan Arthur made. God, this was awful. And so very _uncomfortable_...not uncomfortable in the way of aching knees or awkward things in even more awkward places (although that _had_ happened to the point where Merlin had snapped at the boy and just decided to take control of the situation himself). Uncomfortable in the sense that this wasn’t about love...well in a way, they supposed it was. It wasn’t even about lust, they were trying far too hard to avoid eye contact for that. It was partly about getting off, but mostly they just wanted to _forget_. Forget about the wife that’d betrayed him, forget about the lover that the Reaper had finally decided to take away from him. For a while, just a little while...the situation, the ache didn’t have to exist. They could pretend...and despite the rather lackluster sex it was accomplishing that job very well. Arthur had always been beautiful, and he’d grown into a very beautiful young man. It wasn’t too difficult to mentally remove the Igraine from the equation, if Merlin squinted then he could pass for _him_ very well. Judging by the cries of “Fuck, Gwen… _please_ ” underneath him, he passed well enough despite his lack of curves and the silver that streaked his hair. If he could help them both forget the hell they were in, even for a bit…  


  
It wasn’t _bad_ sex, he’d had much worse sex. But poor Arthur was just at a loss as to what to do, never having been with a man before and never thinking that Merlin of all people would be the first. Arthur had looked like an untested knight pissing his britches during his first taste of battle, and Merlin had to get him hard himself. Then there was the disaster of figuring out which parts went where. But the boy was a fast learner, he’d give him that.  
To his credit, Arthur was an _amazing_ kisser. He’d never been lightheaded over a kiss since…well, that’d been a long time ago. What he lacked in experience he made up for in eagerness, but like a new hunting hound he was _too_ eager at times. “Ouch! It doesn’t _go_ there, Arthur!”  
“I’m sorry!”  
“Enough!” Merlin had slapped his hands away. “Enough, just stop it.” The wizard rose to his knees and straddled Arthur’s hips. “You just lay there, alright?”  


  
And that’s how this whole thing led to where they were now. Arthur had his face buried in Merlin’s hair...in this like in all things, he was a patient if somewhat crabby teacher. He’d met the king’s clumsy fumblings with the sighs of a disappointed parent, then he’d cluck and adjust them so that things went a bit more smoothly...removing and replacing hands or shifting his body when Arthur just wasn’t hitting the damn angle. But when Arthur got something right, he delighted in every gasp or groan that Merlin made. He couldn’t help smirking into his neck when those sounds became more consistent from them both. “How am I doing now?” It came out as more of a trembling moan than a question.  
“Better.” Merlin stroked Arthur’s back to urge him forward. “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  
They shouldn’t be doing this...Merlin should be coping the proper way. He should be talking this out with someone, seeking prayer perhaps and encouraging Arthur to do the same. Or even a more unhealthy mechanism like drinking until he blacked out. But for God’s sake, he shouldn’t be _fucking his godson_ at three in the bloody morning on the floor of a guest bedroom in the castle...anything was better than that. He’d never be able to look the boy in the eyes again!  
“Finish it.” Arthur panted, finally daring to look directly at Merlin’s face and break the illusion.  
“What?”  
“Merlin...I beg you, finish it.” Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but finding no words he merely gave Arthur a nod and sped up his movements. Arthur matched him with every thrust, the hold on his hips tightening even more than he thought possible. Finally...there it was. With a keening cry, white bloomed behind his eyes, barely registering Arthur’s own throaty groan as he met his end as well. Judging by how blurry his own vision was, he’d been crying...and judging by the way Arthur stubbornly had his face buried in the rug, it wasn’t a far off guess to assume that their faces mirrored each other yet again.  


  
Neither of them seemed to know how long they lay there, tangled around each other. Arthur was softly weeping into Merlin’s still-clothed shoulder and Merlin tried to keep his own crying to sniffles, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. When they turned to face each other, Arthur had started to cry and Merlin immediately went to hold him. “It’s alright.” _You deserved a better first time than this, my boy._ “Arthur? Did I...did I hurt you?”  
“No. I’m not hurt...not physically anyway.” But it came out muffled, which wasn’t surprising. “Are _you_ hurt?”  
“No. But even if I was, I’m a wizard. I’m able to heal myself.”  
“Can you bring her back, Merlin?” Arthur’s whisper was desperate...but there was nothing he could do this time.  


  
“My boy...I can’t bring her back from Lancelot’s clutches any more than I can bring back my lover from the land of the dead. But I would if I could, you know.”  
“I know you would.” Arthur shifted position so they were looking one another in the eyes. There was no reason to keep up the façade anymore. “You were right, you know. You and everyone else warned me…thanks for not saying I told you so.”  
“I know what it’s like to be silly over love...what did I often say to you when you were little?”  


  
“I’m a magician, not a miracle worker.”  
“Precisely...so I know exactly how it is, I am not free from human emotions. I’ve ignored my family, my friends and my better judgement and did stupid things in the name of love. All humans err, even half-human wizards.” He slowly made to rise from the floor, wincing as he did so. “I think we best get up before we meld into the floor, eh?”  
“So you _are_ in pain.” Arthur demanded.  
“Of course not, Sire. Just creaky old-man knees, that’s all.” Arthur huffed out a laugh and took Merlin’s proffered hand to help him to his feet. “Thank you, teacher.”  
“For what?”  
“For tonight. I really needed it. It helped.”  
Merlin smiled at him. “Thank _you_ , Arthur. And like you said, I needed this just as much as you did.” He handed the king his shirt, bending to stretch out his limbs. “So, will you be going back to your chambers tonight?”  


  
“I don’t think I can...it’s still too painful, knowing what happened in there. Of all the places in the world, why _there_? Just twisting the knife, I suppose.” Arthur’s tone grew frosty, and Merlin leaned in to hug him. “You really are your father's son after all. Except in one detail…”  
“And that would be?”  
“He was shorter.” Merlin laughed. “It was easier to hug him, he came to my shoulder. Now I barely come to yours.” The king was still upset, but he let out a snort of amusement. “How do I know that you didn’t just shrink?”  
“I don’t think that’s humanly possible…” Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s still damp forehead. “I’ll be staying here, you’re welcome to join me.”  
“You’re not going back to your tower?”  
“No. It’s got too many memories that I’m not in the condition to face right now, plus it’s far away and there’s a perfectly good bed here already. I don’t think either of us should be alone tonight, do you?” Their eyes bored into each other, waiting for the king’s answer. “No.” Arthur said finally. “I don’t think so.”  


  
Merlin climbed into bed with a sigh, he could feel the shift as Arthur took over the unoccupied side. “I remember when I was little, I used to climb into your bed when I was afraid, and his as well. You’d be exasperated but you continued to let me sleep with you, even after he said I was getting too old for such things. Father let me in when I was very young, but I remember that sometimes he used to be _furious_ with me.”  
Arthur chuckled. Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes, a fond smile coming over his face.. “That’s only because those were the times where _I_ had already climbed in with him. You little fucking cockblock.” The two looked at each other before dissolving into peals of laughter.  


  
“I’m not so little anymore, am I? Anyway…” He slid closer so they were touching. “It’s warmer like this, and perhaps I’ll have the opportunity to make up my assignment?” A surprised look came over Merlin’s face. “You want to...you want to do it again?”  
“Yeah...with the sconces brighter and _not_ pretending that we’re other people, maybe? Come on Merlin, after that shitshow of a fuck you’ve _got_ to give me an opportunity to do that over.  
“It wasn’t that much of a shitshow, I mean we came.”  
“It’s not that hard to make a man come, we can finish in literally six seconds.” Arthur reached for him, twining their fingers together. “I’m not him, and you’re not her. They’re gone and we’ll never get them back...but we’ve always had each other, haven’t we? I mean, it doesn’t have to be anything permanent. Friends comfort each other in all types of ways, and to be honest I kind of enjoyed it.”  
“I liked it too...it was, warm.” Merlin tore his eyes away from the ceiling back to his king. “Arthur, what about…?”  
“What about what? The church? Public opinion? I know, it’s weird. It’s odd...but it works for us at least for now. It’s not hurting anyone, and life isn’t so shit for us for a little while. We can pretend everything is alright for a minute, if we squint. We trust each other, I’d rather you than a stranger.”  
After a pressing silence, Merlin finally squeezed Arthur’s hand back without looking over at him. “It’s a lot easier to pretend if the real world isn’t visible. And you don’t have to squint.” With a wave of his hand, the trickling remains of candlelight disappeared...shrouding the room in total darkness.  



End file.
